


center of you

by Deinde



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Canon Compliant, Daemons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-25 02:10:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12025887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deinde/pseuds/Deinde
Summary: Or: stories about boys and their daemons





	1. 11: Ha Sungwoon

**Author's Note:**

> I love Wanna One, and I love the concept of daemons, so why not both? If you're unfamiliar with the concept, daemons are basically a manifestation of your soul (from Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials series) that eventually settle into an animal that reflects the shape of your soul. Catch that Produce 101 reference in the title though.

For Sungwoon, growing up is more of a metaphorical term than a literal one.

 

His parents like to tell him that from his very first wail, they knew he would be a loud baby, but were confused when his daemon, curled into a little ball next to him, made no sound at all.

 

“It’s because even though you’re very loud, you have a quiet soul,” his mother says fondly.

 

Sungwoon exchanges a dubious look with Cynthy next to him, and they silently disagree together. Ha Sungwoon and Cynthy, silent? There’s no such thing.

 

Yeah, maybe his daemon isn’t as loud as he is, doesn’t like shouting or laughing as much as him, but they complete one another. Cynthy is the shape of Sungwoon’s soul personified, and even though she likes to spend most of her time as small mammals right now, like squirrels or rabbits, one day she’ll settle into something that reflects the very core of who Sungwoon is. Something that reflects the essence of Sungwoon’s existence.

 

Sungwoon hopes she’ll be something loud. And small.

 

“It’d be cool if you were a bird or something,” he tells her one day as they sprawl across the grass in a playground near their house. Cynthy is currently a kitten, curled next to him and purring, but she quickly morphs into a robin at his words, anxiously twittering. “Then you’d be able to fly.”

 

“Really? I don’t feel like a bird,” Cynthy says thoughtfully. She flutters her wings and hops onto Sungwoon’s shoulder, pecking at his ear in a way that sort of stings but doesn’t hurt. “That doesn’t really matter since we have to stay close anyway,” she points out, logical as always. “I couldn’t fly as high as other birds since it’d hurt.”

 

“I know that!”

 

“Then why do you still want to?”

 

“Well…” Sungwoon sulks for a moment, looking down at his toes, which, sadly, aren’t that far away from him, and mutters, “Birds are small… so I’ll seem taller.”

 

Cynthy snorts right next to his ear, and in her current form, it comes out sounding more like a musical laugh. “Are you seriously so worried about that?”

 

“All the other kids in my year are taller than me,” Sungwoon grouses. He tugs at the ends of his hair irritably, as if doing that he could magically make himself the height he wants. “People are always saying I’m louder than my size as if the two are related, _which they aren’t-_ ”

 

“Hey, stop that,” Cynthy chides gently. Hopping onto his head, she pecks lightly at his fingers where they’re pulling his hair, and once Sungwoon stops, several strands come away from the top of his head. He didn’t realize how hard he’d been pulling. “You’re not even done growing yet, and besides, height isn’t everything. You should focus more on growing on the inside, not the outside.”

 

“You sound like my mom,” Sungwoon says, complaining even as the tight knot in his chest loosens a bit at Cynthy’s reassurance. “I thought you were supposed to reflect me, not my parents.”

 

Try as he might, Sungwoon can’t hide anything from his own soul, and Cynthy chirps happily as she senses his relief before leaping off his head and changing into a puppy so she can butt up against his hand comfortingly. Sungwoon starts petting her absently and stares at the shape of himself.

 

“I do reflect you,” Cynthy reassures him. “All the parts of you, even the ones you don’t know yet.” She nuzzles up against him even more aggressively, if a tiny puppy can be called aggressive. “You’ll grow into it, don’t worry.”

 

“There you go, sounding like my mom again!”

 

 

 

 

 

Experts disagree on the exact time when daemons are supposed to settle. Some say that settling in the mid-twenties is late, others say that’s perfectly acceptable. Some say that daemons only settle during great establishing moments, but others argue that daemons are known to settle during mundane everyday happenings. In spite of all these disagreements, everyone knows that daemons begin settling once they hit puberty. Every young child begins waiting in eager expectation of the day that they can see the shape of their soul as soon as they hit their teens.

 

Sungwoon is no different from those other children, except he decides to become an idol trainee while Cynthy is still unsettled.

 

At his audition, he stands there nervously, Cynthy a fluttering hummingbird by his side, while the examiner looks at him severely over his glasses.

 

“You do know that we don’t debut any unsettled daemons, yes?” he asks.

 

Sungwoon gulps. “Yes. I’ve read the company policies.”

 

“Yet you still audition with an unsettled daemon?”

 

“She’ll settle, sir. We’re still young and have time to grow.” Sungwoon hopes he sounds as confident as his words.

 

“Hm. Let’s see it then.”

 

Sungwoon auditions and makes it. He trains as hard as he can, despite the comments from trainers about his height or his unsettled daemon, because he’s going to make it no matter what. If the other trainees are better at dancing than him, he stays until the practice rooms close. If they’re better at singing than him, he asks for more vocal lessons with his forehead pressed against the ground. If the other trainees are funnier than him, he watches variety shows on Youtube and practices skits wth Cynthy in the dark of his own room until early in the morning. If the other trainees are taller and better-looking than him, well…

 

One night, he sits with his back against the mirrors, all fogged up from the humidity of bodies constantly moving to the beat. He’s exhausted, cap pulled low over his eyes, and can’t even find the strength to get up as everyone else leaves the room. Someone turns off the lights, and Sungwoon is left there, sitting alone in the darkness by himself.

 

Cynthy seems as exhausted as he feels, taking the form of a waddling duck that nestles into her feathers next to him. She presses her bill against his arm in what’s supposed to be a comforting manner, but Sungwoon doesn’t look up.

 

He’s tired, down to his very bones.

 

“Hey, Cynthy. Do you think we’ll make it.”

 

It’s not a question. It’s not a question because Sungwoon thinks he knows the answer already. The answer is in the long phone calls home to his parents, the defeat when he looks at his ever-dwindling bank account, the crumpled but already filled out withdrawal sheet hidden beneath his pillow in the trainee dorms.

 

“We can’t give up now,” Cynthy reasons. Her voice is a soothing cadence punctuated by occasional quacks that don’t do anything to lighten the atmosphere. “I think we’re close. The company said that they’re planning on debuting a new group soon, remember? Taehyun, Hojung, and those other guys all think it’ll happen soon.”

 

“They don’t debut unsettled daemons, though,” Sungwoon points out. “No one does. And guess what we are?”

 

Cynthy is quiet for a moment.

 

“Are you saying this is my fault? Are you mad at me?”

 

“No!” Sungwoon blurts, scrambling to his feet because he means it, this could never be Cynthy’s fault. She’s his soul, everything that he is. If it’s her fault, then it’s his fault too, and while that’s more likely, the prideful part of Sungwoon doesn’t want to say that anything part of his own effort is lacking. “Of course it’s not your fault! I was just saying-”

 

“Then what are you going to do?” Cynthy asks bluntly. “You can’t sit here forever. The sun will rise eventually, and the lights will turn back on again. What will you do then?”

 

Her words hit him, and Sungwoon stops talking. He stares down at Cynthy, who always shifts into a smaller shape when he needs reassurance, and thinks. About all the blood, sweat, and tears he’s shed, of working to prove everyone wrong, all the late nights spent laughing with other trainees, lamenting about the uncertainty of their futures. Thinks about how it would feel to go home with only a bag full of his clothes and nothing to show for years of effort.

 

And Sungwoon makes a decision.

 

“We’ll keep going,” he says firmly. “We’ll keep running nonstop until we reach the goal. There’s nothing else for us to do. We have to endure.”

 

As soon as those words leave his mouth, Sungwoon finds that he’s no longer staring at a small duck at his feet but a pair of cloven hooves. Slowly lifting his eyes, Sungwoon stares at the female cow now standing before him, tail swishing slowly from side to side. He has to tilt his neck back the slightest bit to make eye contact with the cow that he knows just as intimately as himself.

 

“You’ve settled,” he says dumbly.

 

“Is this okay?” Cynthy sounds worried, her voice sounding from a height heigher than what Sungwoon is used to. “I can’t change now, not even if I wanted to, but… is this okay for you?”

 

“It’s fine, if a little anticlimactic,” Sungwoon mutters even as he tiptoes and peers into his daemon’s eyes self-consciously. “I just wish you weren’t so _tall._ ”

 

Cynthy laughs and sticks out one very long and very wet tongue to lick the side of Sungwoon’s face as he squirms and complains about how gross it is. “It’s okay. This is who we are.”

 

Sungwoon stops and stares at Cynthy thoughtfully. He feels peaceful, more (pardon the pun) settled than he’s ever felt before, looking at his daemon like this. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “It is.”

 

 

 

 

 

Cynthy settling doesn’t magically make everything better. Sungwoon is finally placed on the shortlist for the debuting boy group, and they debut as Hotshot, but they go nowhere, and Sungwoon starts feeling that distinct discomfort once again. Years and years later, Sungwoon stares at an application sheet for a show called Produce 101 and thinks about the pride that always held him up when he felt like nothing else would.

 

He swallows it down and signs the contract in front of him.

 

He and Taehyun go on the show, and the first time they stand in front of all the other trainees, Cynthy moos lowly with her tail flicking anxiously behind her. She’s big, one of the biggest daemons that Sungwoon can see so far, and Taehyun’s small jackrabbit seems to disappear next to her. Sungwoon himself feels small next to her, but he tilts his chin up as if to make up for his height and stares out at his competitors as if to say, _bring it._

 

And bring it he does.

 

Standing on that final stage, the thrum of nervous energy lighting up his bones, Sungwoon spends every moment of those two hours holding onto that inherent connection that he can feel between himself and Cynthy. She’s anxious too, he can sense it, ears twitching and snorting next to him.

 

It seems like it’s too much to hope for anything other than the eleventh spot, but Sungwoon lowers his head and prays anyway. He doesn’t dare move his hands from where they’re clasped in front of him, only lifts his head to congratulate each of the ones who have become his friends as they get called forward. Cynthy is trembling faintly next to him. This is the only time that Sungwoon can remember where she hasn’t been the patient and steady figure she always assures him that he truly is. They’re both shaking, waiting and hoping beyond hope that their names will be announced next.

 

They go past all the single digits, listen as BoA announces Daniel as the number one and center for this season of Produce 101, and see their faces as one of the four candidates for the last spot. As soon as Sungwoon sees Jonghyun’s face, he almost collapses to his knees, sure that there’s no way the Nation’s Leader won’t take the final spot, but Cynthy moves faster than an animal of her bulk might be expected to, pushing up against his back so he can lean against her.

 

“It’s not over yet,” she says fiercely. “Wait.”

 

That’s all he can do anyways, he wants to say, but no words can make their way from his mouth. Instead, he wraps his arms around Cynthy’s neck and rests his head against hers.

 

“The final member of Wanna One is…”

 

Sungwoon closes his eyes.

 

“Ador&Able, Ha Sungwoon!”

 

There, amidst the screams and cheers, the disbelief and relief in equal measure, Sungwoon hears Cynthy’s joyful voice saying, “We endured it, Sungwoon. We did it. We made it.”

 

 Yeah, he thinks, heart soaring as he looks up at that blue pyramid and the seat waiting for him. We did.


	2. 10: Bae Jinyoung

“Hey, your daemon has a small head, just like you!”

 

Jinyoung hates it when they say that, reducing him and his daemon to a physical attribute. He hates it even more that he doesn’t say anything about it. All he does is keep his head down and his mouth shut, staring at the ground that’s become so familiar to him.

 

“I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to speak up,” he says. He’s just walked into the training center for this show, this… whatever that’s supposed to help him become a star. He’s not deaf; he can hear the awed comments people are making about his face, his visuals, his daemon. Nothing else. Seolah is at his feet, whistling sadly as she gazes up at him with bright and shiny eyes. “I hate it.”

 

“It’s okay,” she croons. She flaps her wings and tries to fly, but can’t quite get the rest of her body up in the air. Jinyoung watches her struggle for a few seconds before crouching so she can dig her sharp claws into his shirt. She doesn’t ruin his clothes, never ruins them, and eventually hops up to perch on his shoulder. Nuzzling at him, Seolah clacks her beak against his cheek. “Not everyone needs to be loud all the time.”

 

“It’s not about being loud,” Jinyoung says. Her beak doesn’t actually feel good against his skin, too cold and too sharp, but he likes it anyway. There’s nothing in science that can definitively prove physical contact with daemons has any benefit, but no one can deny the comforting effect it has. “I don’t care about that.”

 

He’s about to say more but another trainee walks by just then, and he shuts up. Like he always does.

 

There’s nothing outwardly malicious about people praising his visuals or even how his daemon matches him physically. It’s fairly common, the stereotype that attractive people have attractive daemons, so there’s no reason why Jinyoung should feel so bothered.  He’s heard it so many times since Seolah settled that it’s practically routine at this point, and he used to take it as a compliment.

 

Still, he thinks, Seolah knows. She knows how terrified he is that there might be nothing more to him than the truth of those compliments. That Bae Jinyoung is beautiful and so is his daemon. Nothing else.

 

“Don’t think too hard, you’ll hurt yourself.” Seolah makes jokes like this fairly often, teasing her person in a way that Jinyoung could never reciprocate. “Come on, you have to get ready for your performance. Thinking negative thoughts doesn’t help.”

 

“I know, sorry.”

 

When it’s his turn to perform, he knows he’s terrible. There’s a weight pressing down against the back of his neck that forces him to keep his eyes on the ground and not at the audience, never at the audience. He can’t hear Seolah’s disappointed (worried) whistles over the background music, but he can barely hear himself anyway, only hears the C drop from BoA’s lips, and what does he think he’s doing here anyway, there’s no way he’s ready to debut, the only place for him is a screenshot of his face to draw viewers in-

 

Not even Seolah’s clucking can draw him from his thoughts, and by the time Jinyoung finally lifts his head to tune in to the ongoing auditions, he realizes that he’s in his seat again and that some other trainees are performing (better than him). Shifting against the hard plastic, he tries to avoid thinking about himself and instead focus on what’s going on in front of him.

 

At least, he tries. It’s kind of hard to do that when he can feel someone’s gaze on him.

 

Jinyoung twists and turns in his seat, scanning the crowd with his eyes as it slowly dawns on him that trying to identify one set of eyes from a sea of a hundred and one is no easy task.

 

“Jinyoung, Jinyoung, are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine, Seolah,” he says absently, eyes still roaming.

 

“What’s the matter? Do you have a cramp or something?” And, ha, it might look like he’s trying to get a crick out of his back with the way that he’s contorting his body. Seolah hops up in his lap and pokes at his stomach. “I can get someone if you need medicine.”

 

“It’s not that. I think someone’s looking at me,” Jinyoung replies. “I’m trying to find them.”

 

As soon as those words leave his mouth, Jinyoung makes eye contact with someone. It’s the boy from Brand New- the one who had gone up on stage so confidently while declaring that he composed the original song his company had performed. In short, it’s the boy who’s better than Jinyoung could ever hope to be.

 

His gaze is bright and piercing, mouth set in a hard line that seems out of character for such a bright face. It feels like he’s trying to dig into Jinyoung with his eyes alone, and Jinyoung is about to break eye contact when that hard line changes into a bright smile that completely changes his face. The boy shoots him a grin and turns back to happily chat with one of his label mates, leaving Jinyoung confused and a little bit dazzled.

 

He remembers his name later and wonders how he ever forgot it. It’s Lee Daehwi.

 

 

 

 

 

The thing about a show like Produce 101 is that there’s so much that happens off-screen, hours upon hours of uncut footage that reveal more things than two hour episodes could ever cover. Growth doesn’t just happen on-screen, but no one sees the segments deemed too boring for broadcast.

 

Too boring is Jisung coming over when Jinyoung is demoted to F rank and offering him a comforting pat on the back while his daemon chatters away to Seolah. Too boring is when several F rank trainees beg the staff for more shoes because they’ve worn out their own from hours of practice, their daemons collapsed against the side of the room. Too boring is when Jinyoung has to hide himself in the bathroom for a good fifteen minutes just trying to steady his breathing while Seolah croons in his ear. Too boring is Daehwi, the center, finding him there after their first dress rehearsal and thrusting his hand out, saying, “I’m Daehwi. We should become close.”

 

What follows all those boring moments is something that only becomes evident to Jinyoung after he stands on that final stage, hears his name falling from BoA’s lips first, and numbly walks to receive the microphone and give thanks for receiving the number 10 spot. Seolah doesn’t stop chirping that entire night, flapping her wings and whipping her head back and forth in an excited state that only Jinyoung has seen before. For the first time, the two of them are lifting their heads together.

 

It’s a few weeks later, after they’ve all moved into the dorm and Wanna One’s promotional activities have started, that Jinyoung finally gets some time to breathe. Between the rush of schedules and the general chaos of having eleven men live together, sometimes it can be hard to feel like he has any room to relax.

 

“Get some rest,” Sungwoon calls from the living room when Jinyoung walks back. He’s giggling over something with Jisung while their daemons chill in the corner, Jisung’s hopping around Cynthy excitably, just like Jisung himself. “We still have a long day tomorrow.”

 

“I know! Thanks, auntie!” Jinyoung calls back teasingly. He runs from Sungwoon’s outraged, “hey!” and hears Daniel’s familiar laugh from somewhere in the dorm in response. He makes it into his room without incident, just like he knew he would because Sungwoon is often too lazy to move from the couch unless dragged up.

 

Flopping onto his bed, Jinyoung lets himself sprawl across the covers. Seolah croons from his feet until he gets up to pick her up and place her next to him where she immediately snuggles under his chin.

 

It’s comfortable, being like this. Jinyoung closes his eyes and relishes in the feeling of not having to rush to another schedule, not having to run through the dance motions in the waiting room, or actually being able to lie down in a bed rather than sleep in the car. Being a celebrity is everything he’s dreamed of and more, but sometimes he wonders about that more. What did he, shy Bae Jinyoung, ever do to deserve something like this?

 

“What’re you thinking about?” Seolah blinks curiously up at him. Jinyoung lifts a finger to scratch at her absently. “You seem preoccupied.”

 

“Just… how we got here. It doesn’t make sense sometimes, you know?” A sigh passes Jinyoung’s lips as he stares up at the ceiling. “There were so many good people on the show. So many who were better than me, but I’m the one that’s here.”

 

“Jinyoungie…” Seolah croons, pushing her little head up against his chin. “We’ve been over this. You deserve this-”

 

“I know that,” Jinyoung interrupts. “I know that I worked for this. I don’t doubt that anymore. But- remember? I couldn’t even lift my head at that company evaluation, even got demoted to F. The fact that I’m here is honestly kind of miraculous.”

 

“You’re here because you’ve grown,” Seolah says plainly. “You couldn’t lift your head before, but now look at you. You’re so confident on stage now, I can feel it. You’re not scared anymore.”

 

“And I still don’t know how that happened,” Jinyoung admits. He sighs, turning over so he can stare into his daemon’s eyes. “I watch videos of me from the beginning and videos of me from now, and I almost don’t recognize myself.”

 

“How can that be? Don’t you remember all those hours you spent practicing, the help you got from others? Those moments that no one saw, the times spent with others without cameras, the times that were so silent they only exist in hidden whispers… Those all built you up. The cameras only see so much, Jinyoung.”

 

Jinyoung props himself up on his elbows and considers what Seolah just said. Thinking back, some of the most memorable moments from Produce 101 weren’t necessarily the stages or performances, although those were also precious memories in their own right. But he still remembers moments of kindness from other trainees, small conversations during breaks and in between gasps for breath. He still even remembers the awe he felt when the overall center approached him determinedly and the wonder that someone as energetic and bubbly as Daehwi would want to be friends with himself.

 

He thinks about how small he felt those first few days, when the only comments he received were about his looks or how poor his skills were. Even Seolah had been unable to console him back then, and it took the cajoling of countless others to even give him the confidence to make eye contact with the cameras during performances.

 

Something must show on his face at this realization because Seolah huffs. She trills, “Silly. Humans are so forgetful sometimes. Daemons never forget.”

 

“Yeah,” Jinyoung answers automatically, mind still stuck on the past. “That’s why I need you around.”

 

Seolah softens immediately at that. “Of course. You can’t be without me, Jinyoung.”

 

A sudden yell from outside makes them both flinch, and when the scream is followed by the familiar sound of maniacal laughter, both Jinyoung and Seolah laugh.

 

The door opens with a bang, and Daehwi barges in while screaming bloody murder.

 

“Hyung!” he whines pitifully, sounding and looking like his daemon in that moment. “Save me, Jaehwan hyung is attacking me!”

 

“It’s not an attack, it’s a show of love!” comes a voice that is far too loud and far too close. “Come here, Daehwi, stop running!”

 

“Save me,” Daehwi begs again, bouncing up and down in place while turning big puppy eyes onto Jinyoung. “I can’t take another moment of him singing Downpour acoustically, it’s too much for me to bear.”

 

Lauhing, Jinyoung shoves Daehwi behind him and moves to close the door. As he struggles to hold the door closed again Jaehwan’s insistent pushing with Daehwi screeching beside him and Seolah at his feet, he knows that he wouldn’t trade his place for anything else. He’s earned it.


End file.
